In 2010 I:

lost a job
found a job
broke up with a man
started dating a new one
watched my dog have a stroke
watched my dog recover from a stroke (he's pretty much back to normal)
was supported by a great group of friends
got over the friendships that have run their course
became addicted to Angry Birds
became addicted to Words with Friends
learned how to make some killer new dishes
lost and found 7 pounds about 7 times


I'm really curious to see what 2011 has up its sleeve.


What are you looking forward to in 2011?

oh, hi

guess who is unemployed?

I'm not meant to work. God clearly intends for me to live a life of leisure, otherwise why would long-term employment elude me? It's pretty clear. And to be let go right as the summer begins? Amazing!

Unemployment of course (eh, probably) means a far cleaner apartment, a more interesting array of meals cooked, increased blogging and a need to adopt a hobby. Last time I tried knitting (truly hope Heather threw away that sad, little scarf by now. I think she moved to TX just so she'd have no further use for it).

I'm also now available for afternoon assignations.

swing low sundays

I am fundamentally inert on Sundays. Unless my parents have convened a family gathering or there's some other "event" only an apartment/building fire will see me outdoors on Sunday. Sundays are for indoors and I'll put in the effort for that to be so, even when it means creating elaborate breakfasts with which to bribe my brother into walking my dog.

Sundays are for sleeping way too late. Late enough to fuck up falling asleep later that night (unless I employ NyQuil or ambien - yum). Sundays are for slowly acclimating to the day by reading the papers, drinking coffee and therefore peeing a lot. For Yankee games, cleaning the insane pile of clothes I've not put away all week (I start off strong but usually cave by Wednesday), or changing the sheets on my bed. Sundays are excellent opportunities to catch up on any t.v. I missed during the week or to space out during 7 back to back episodes of Law & Order SVU. Sundays are also the perfect days to round up the various magazines I have scattered all over my apartment and read what I want before tossing them out. I love to throw things away and Sundays are a big tidy up day.

Sundays are not for under wire, make-up, high heels or earrings. Sundays are not for elaborate travel plans involving schedules or time tables. Sundays are not for laundry unless you're a cute 22 year old in Juicy Couture shorts looking to get laid, I just want clean jeans.

The most energetic things I do on Sundays are take my dog to the park (on days when it's so gorgeous out it feels abusive not to take him), clean up a bit and make complicated dinners. Tonight I didn't even have to do that though, this week swing low Sunday was replaced with Seder scrap Sunday. Brisket, roasted potatoes, spinach souffle and asparagus, all mom made and all mom delicious with nothing but reheating required. Amazing.

Brisket, Donald Trump and an 11pm ambien. Bien indeed.

clarity is

when you don't have to wonder if your life is going backwards - you can actually see that it is.

In other news you have 10 days to procure Christian Bale and/or Paul Rudd for me as a birthday present - let's go people, let's go!

helen keller could do it better

I am a lousy communicator.

I have too many hang-ups. I worry that what I say will be taken wrong. I worry what I say will be taken correctly. I worry I'm putting it out there at the wrong time, that who I'm talking to won't be receptive. I worry they will be and and invariably I'll come to find out I was wrong. My biggest worry is that in the end, no one cares about what I have to say anyway.

That's kind of a biggie.

I'm the type of person that holds most things in to begin with (the above are reasons) but I also think there's something to be said for being able to suck things up and move along. Though it turns it that I really don't.

I let things fester. I get annoyed and disappointed. I find myself completely pissed off when it turns out that my nearest and dearest aren't mind readers. Even worse, I know deep down this is also a litmus test that I use. How much do you care? How much effort do you put out? It's small and petty but if I'm being honest, it's part of me. it's just what I do - it's not exactly my greatest selling point. To the contrary, if I were a house for sale it would be a mold problem in the basement I'd paint over, a sump pump that conks out after an inch of rain, something the realtor would eagerly sidestep.

I'm trying to better. I try to tell my friends when I'm upset or feel slighted. It's not easy. First, I'm no good at it. Second, no one really wants to hear complaints that pertain to them. Third, I'd rather be mugged daily than confront someone. It turns out that the more you do it, the easier it gets. At once a year intervals, it should be easy as pie by the time I'm 74.